


(un)lucky

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little bit of makeup, Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sweet, not very smutty but a little bit, only a year apart in age, ridiculous plot requires a healthy suspension of disbelief, super fluff, they are both college volleyball players
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: Oikawa and Kageyama are both college players and their teams are at a practice volleyball tournament. There is a party on the last night, and Oikawa makes out with a stranger in a dark closet - at least, he thinks he does.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	(un)lucky

Oikawa relaxes under the spray of the shower. The hot water feels good on his aching muscles. It had been a long last set, the points going up to the 30s before they finally won. All in all, a satisfying end to a grueling series of matches. He closes his eyes and leans into the steaming water, wishing he could lie down in a bath instead.

The three-day set of practice matches, a mini-tournament really, had gone extremely well. Their team had played hard and won more often than not. Each individual member had worked to improve his skills, and they had also come together nicely as a team, smoothing out the kinks in some of their plays.

All in all, a valuable learning experience.

There had been only one unpleasant aspect to the whole thing: old Karasuno players seemed to have had something of a reunion here. Even though they were spread out among the various university teams, they came together frequently and noisily at meals and breaks and were a presence that Oikawa had to work hard to ignore. Chibi-chan was bouncing all over the place, and of course there was the old, ever-present thorn in Oikawa's side: Kageyama Tobio. In fact, it seemed like everywhere he turned, Kageyama’s scowling face was right in front of him.

Interestingly enough, the rotation ended up being such that Oikawa’s team didn’t play Kageyama’s. He’s not sure how he feels about that. He’d like to take Kageyama on again now, years later, when he is the best he’s ever been. On the other hand, it was probably good to put his full attention to playing, and not get swallowed up by that poisonous hatred again.

The final day had ended quite late, and the majority of the participating teams had taken the host school up on the offer for accommodations for one more night. They’ll leave early tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, tonight there’s a party in the dorm across the street from where they’re being housed.

Oikawa is in the mood to party. And for something extra, if he gets lucky. 

With that end in mind, he puts on the nicest clothes he brought. They’re casual, of course, but do an excellent job of showing his body to advantage. That’s something he’s always been good at – putting himself on display.

As an additional touch, he carefully applies eyeliner. It’s subtle, nothing too heavy, but adds just enough to make his eyes pop out of his face – in a beautiful, rather than a bug-eyed, sort of way.

Iwaizumi comes into the bathroom as he’s finishing up with mascara.

“Whoa! What the hell, Tooru? Are you looking to blind people tonight?”

Much as Iwaizumi finds Oikawa insufferable at times, he is undeniably easy on the eyes. With makeup on, he is positively dazzling. Almost as pretty as Iwaizumi’s boyfriend.

“Shut up, Iwa-chan! I’m allowed to wear makeup if I want!”

“If you’re planning on leaving a trail of broken hearts.”

“See? Even you can appreciate my charms!”

“Tooru, you know you were given this beauty so that no one killed you for your horrible personality, don’t you? It’s a biologic defense mechanism, and you should thank your lucky stars you have it. Otherwise you would have been shoved down an elevator shaft long ago.”

“So morbid, Iwa-Chan! Feel free to shut up and admire the brilliant sight before you in silence.”

Iwaizumi sighs. He hates to encourage Oikawa's ego, but it _is_ a brilliant sight. Oikawa on the hunt is always incandescent.

“When are you gonna start going out with someone for real?” he finally says, his tone a mixture of exasperation and concern. They have been best friends forever, after all, and Iwaizumi does care a great deal for Oikawa.

The hand holding the mascara brush stills momentarily before it starts moving once again towards Oikawa’s face. He says, smoothly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Iwa-chan. I’m always going out with someone.”

“You know what I mean, Trashykawa. Going out for real.”

Oikawa winces slightly. The point is a sore one. It’s true that people are attracted to his looks. He knows he hit the jackpot with his bone structure. But the relationships, if they can even be called that, never last. Sometime between 3 and 5 weeks, like clockwork, the other person gets a blast of the acid personality underlying Oikawa’s sugarcoated exterior and flees as fast and as far as they can. The rare person who can tolerate the low pH is turned off by his overwhelming ambition. No one who actually _knows_ Oikawa wants to date him. Thus, his love life, such as it is, consists of flirting, one-night stands, and month-long stints with people who have raging crushes that die a quick death once they are met with the reality of Oikawa Tooru.

Not that Oikawa should complain. He can depend on being able to go home with the person he wants to from a party, and he really is too busy to put the time or effort into an ongoing relationship. 

It’s just that sometimes – not too often, he reminds himself – he gets a little lonely. Especially when he sees Akaashi curled up in Iwaizumi’s arms on the couch, or Hanamaki trying to pretend that he’s not bringing a special dinner for Matsukawa because he had an unbelievably stressful week and needs some TLC, or even posted pics of Yahaba holding hands with his girlfriend.

Oikawa shrugs off these thoughts. Now is not the time for gloom and doom. It was a set of great training matches, and he’s ready to relax and have a good time.

He checks to make sure he’s got condoms, plus a few of the single-use lubes that fit so easily in his back pocket. Yep. He’s packing heat.

By the time they get across the street, he’s talked himself back into a festive mood, and he’s ready to let loose.

The party is already in full swing when they arrive. Most of the players from the practice tournament are there, including the old Karasuno guys, Oikawa notes with distaste. He turns away from where they are congregated and quickly heads onto the makeshift dance floor. 

The music is good: loud, but not so loud it pierces the eardrums, and a great dance mix.

Oikawa loses himself in the beat. He’s a decent dancer, but, more than that, he knows he looks hot as fuck: his lithe body gyrating to the music, his eyes smoky in the dim light. He should easily be able to lure in a nice, tasty fish.

Not too much later, Oikawa has set his sights on a guy on the other side of the room. It’s not someone he knows, and he’s not even sure it’s one of the volleyball players from the tournament. He’s quite tall, though, almost as tall as Oikawa, and has thick, dark hair. He’s definitely checking Oikawa out, too. Oikawa makes sure to catch his gaze and wink, getting the message across loud and clear: _yes, I’m interested._

The guy smiles back predatorially.

And when the guy leaves the dance floor, glancing backwards to pin Oikawa with his gaze, Oikawa lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

The guy nods and makes a show of pointing out a door off to the left. Hmmm. It looks like it’s some sort of closet or something. Not Oikawa’s cup of tea. He’s so far out of the closet, he hates to go back in one, even for some action. But… the guy really is quite hot, so he merely grins and nods, holding up a finger to indicate he’ll be there just as soon as he can make his way across the dance floor. Oikawa barely sees his back as the door closes behind him. He allows himself to enjoy the music a few moments longer, his eyes closed, a pleasant feeling of anticipation washing through him.

Shaking his eyes open, he starts winding his way across the room towards the closet.

He opens the door into what turns out to be more of a storage room than a closet; at least, he thinks so. He hardly gets a look around, the guy standing with his back to Oikawa at the other end, before the door swings shut behind him, leaving the room pitch black. 

“You like the dark, eh?” he asks, with a low chuckle. It’s not Oikawa’s cup of tea. He likes to see guys when he’s fucking them or being fucked. But, again, he’s willing to roll with it. It’s not that big a deal. 

He fumbles his way over to where there is a denser blackness, where the guy is standing. He reaches tentatively out, touches the guy’s shoulder, slides his hand up the guy’s neck. He must have turned around in the darkness because he’s facing Oikawa now.

The guy trembles slightly under the touch.

It’s weird, not being able to see his face. Oikawa doesn’t know what that tremble means. Is it desire? Excitement? Fear?

He feels suddenly uncertain.

“You okay?” he asks. “You sure you want to do this?” He’s looking for a good time tonight, with an equally enthusiastic partner. He doesn’t want any drama, and he certainly is not looking to force anyone into something they don’t want to do.

Weirdly, the guy doesn’t say anything back, just gives a wordless grunt and nods vigorously.

“OK, then. Why are you still so far away? Come here.”

He grips the back of the guy’s neck and reels him in.

The guy is, indeed, almost as tall as him, and extremely well-built. He can feel the power in the guy's arms as they curl around him, although the arms themselves are still trembling slightly.. 

Strange. The guy hadn’t seemed at all nervous while he was dancing. Well, Oikawa will start slow. He moves in with a light kiss.

Right away, it feels amazing. The guy has a soft, responsive mouth, and when Oikawa parts his lips, the guy quickly follows suit. Oikawa slides his tongue in, and the guy gasps in the most satisfying way. It has Oikawa wondering what kind of delicious noises he’s going to make when they move on to other things.

Oikawa is surprised at how turned on he is, from the kissing alone. When was the last time he felt like this, so quickly? The guy feels so good, and he even smells good. There’s something almost familiar about him, dancing at the edge of Oikawa’s consciousness, but he can’t quite grab a hold of it. 

Regardless, it’s fantastic. It's just kissing, and Oikawa is already almost drunk off of it. He slips his hand under the guy’s shirt and feels the guy jump as he caresses warm, soft skin overlying firm muscle. His fingers skim upwards until he finds what he is looking for.

As he was hoping, the guy lets out a muffled groan when Oikawa brushes his index finger lightly across a nipple. He circles it slowly, teasingly, enjoying the sensation of it stiffening under his fingertip.

The guy’s head has fallen, and he is panting, open-mouthed, against Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa gives the nipple a quick, light flick and the guy jolts. He repeats the motion again, and another time, almost laughing with delight as he gets the same reaction every time.

He brings his other finger up and nudges the guy’s head so he can slip it into the guy’s open mouth. 

The guy immediately starts sucking on it: hard, eager sucks. It’s one of the most erotic things Oikawa has ever experienced, as though an electric current is running directly from his finger to his rapidly hardening dick.

Pulling his finger out against the pressure, he lifts the guy’s shirt again and rubs his wet finger on the other nipple. When he gives it a quick pinch,the guy grunts in his ear.

It’s like the guy is Oikawa’s personal playground, or an instrument, and Oikawa can play him however he wants. He wishes they were on a bed, and he could spread the guy out, all warm and wet and willing, and make him really sing.

He brings his hands down and around to squeeze the guy’s ass through his jeans. The guy gasps and falls into Oikawa, leaning heavily against him.

Oikawa finds the guy’s mouth with his own, pushing his tongue in at the same time he pushes the guy's body back. He wedges his knee firmly between the guy’s legs, pinning him against the wall. There’s no mistaking the answering hardness there, pressed up against Oikawa's thigh. 

“You’re so hot,” he rasps. He finds himself grinding his crotch, almost helplessly, against the guy’s muscled thigh. He's already so far gone. _Shit_! Is he going to come in his pants? He buries his face in the guy’s hair, which is so soft and silky he could drown in it. 

He has some sixth sense, as the guy starts to stutter out a response, that warns him to brace himself. Maybe it was the way the breath was drawn in, or the smell was finally becoming recognizable, but he stiffens even before the guy gets the words out.

“S-s-so are you, Oi-oikawa-s-s-san.”

_Holy fuck!_

Is this?

Could it be?

_No!_

He yanks his head back and tries to make out the face in the darkness. Please, let it not be! Let it be someone who sounds like, but isn’t, mustn’t be, no, it’s simply not possible…

He lifts a hand and runs it, none too gently, over the guy’s face, searching for an answer.

The voice is no longer stuttering when it asks, “What are you doing, Oikawa-san? Is something wrong?”

It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped directly onto Oikawa’s head.

There’s no mistaking that voice.

The hot guy he’s been furiously making out with –

The guy who smells good, and feels so good under his fingertips, and tastes incredible –

The guy he is still, unbelievably, hard for –

The guy who, in fact, he wants to fuck into oblivion in this stupid storage room is… _Tobio-chan?_

_Fuck!_

The universe is laughing at him. Deep, vile, bellyaching laughter – hysterical laughter that will never end. He must finally be getting payback for being such a nasty prick to all his former boyfriends. 

He realizes that one hand is still holding Kageyama’s hip in a tight grip.

He gives a loud groan and pushes Kageyama away. It’s surprisingly difficult to do. Something in him wants to pull Kageyama in tight, to keep kissing him, to run his fingers all over his body, to slide down, unbutton Kageyama’s jeans, wrap his mouth around…

He groans again and drops his face into his hands. _Shit!_

He hears Kageyama take a stumbling step, and then an appalling, fluorescent light buzzes on.

He doesn’t want to look up for final confirmation of what he already knows to be true.

How did it happen, anyway? He was absolutely certain that other guy went through this door. How is it possible that Kagyama ended up here instead? Was he trying to rendezvous with his own hookup and got lost?

But Kageyama knew it was him. Called him by name. Does that mean he realized midway through that it was Oikawa he was with, and not someone else? If so, why did he continue? Why didn’t he put a stop to it?

“How the hell did this disaster happen?” Oikawa says, finally looking up.

Kageyama shrugs, although there is something decidedly shifty in his gaze as he looks away. He is surprisingly cool in the face of this calamitous turn of events. Cool, but also… really hot, with his flushed face, his messy hair, his wrinkled shirt. Oikawa stifles a desire to run his hand back up under that shirt, over the delectable chest he knows is lurking underneath it.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. It’s hard to think with Kageyama so close, and especially when his luscious taste is so strong in Oikawa’s mouth.

“Should we pretend that we don’t know each other and go back to what we were doing?” he says jokingly (but is it really a joke?).

“I wouldn’t mind,” says Kageyama.

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Oikawa hisses at him. “We hate each other!”

“I don’t,” says Kageyama, so quietly that Oikawa can barely hear him.

“You don’t what?” asks Oikawa angrily. All the festive feeling from earlier is gone, and his muscles and joints are aching with renewed vigor. 

“I don’t hate you,” says Kageyama.

“You don't have to lie, Tobio-chan. It's okay to be turned on despite our feelings of mutual antipathy.”

“I _said_ ,” says Kageyama, clearly annoyed, “that I _don’t_ hate you.”

Oikawa sighs. “Whatever.”

“It’s true!” says Kageyama angrily. He is flushed a deep red. “I – I like you. A lot.”

Despite himself, Oikawa finds his heart leaping at the words. The idea of being with Kageyama is, strangely, an enticing one. Not only is he obviously hot as blazes, there’s always been something… intriguing about Kageyama, with his ridiculously single-minded ambition, his awkward but endearing gawkiness, his impressive skill level. He has a bizarre urge to grab Kageyama’s hand and hold it tightly in his own, to not let go of him.

Oikawa tells himself to calm the fuck down. There is no chance in hell that he’s ever going to _go out_ with Kageyama. Even if he wanted to (and he doesn’t! He most certainly does not! Not his arch-nemesis! Not _Tobio-chan!_ ), this is the same-old merry-go-round he’s been on a hundred times before. Boy has crush. Boy kisses crush. Boy goes out with crush until he spends enough time with him to realize what an asshole he is and hightails it out of there as quickly as he can.

_But_ \- and it’s a big _but_ \- Kageyama already _knows_ what an asshole Oikawa is. And he still, apparently, likes him.

No. He only thinks he does. Oikawa had better nip this in the bud.

“It’s just a silly crush,” he says.

“No,” says Kageyama with certainty. He’s frowning that frown that is almost always on his face. A frown of concentration. “It’s not just a crush. You can be a pretty awful person. The worst, really. But there’s also a lot I like and admire about you. I have for some time.”

“You sure know how to win a guy over, Tobio-chan!” says Oikawa. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

Even as he’s saying it, he’s realizing that it’s time to put this surreal interlude to an end. He stretches, his back popping. “Goodnight. Thank you for a… scintillating evening."

“B-b-but-“ Kageyama protests.

Oikawa is really too tired to be doing this right now, and his brain is completely overloaded.

“Goodbye, Tobio-chan,” he says with finality, turning to leave. “My apologies for interfering with your hookup.”

As he’s walking through the door, he can’t help glancing back. Kageyama is still standing, rather forlornly, in the middle of the room, looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

Oikawa frowns, strangely unhappy with the idea of a sad Kageyama. But his feet are already carrying him out the door, and he allows them to keep moving him. He walks right out of the party, too. _Thanks, Tobio-chan, for ruining my chances of getting lucky tonight!_ _What a freaking disaster!_

Once back in his room, he falls into bed. No one else is back yet, so he jerks off angrily into his hand, definitely _not_ hearing Kageyama’s moans in his ear as he does so. Afterwards, he falls immediately into a deep sleep.

They are up at the ass crack of dawn, their bags packed, shuffling outside the entrance as they wait for their bus to pull up. All the other teams seem to be in the same boat, bleary-eyed players doing their best to stay upright.

Oikawa shoots surreptitious glances in the direction of Kageyama’s team. He doesn’t see him. Which is good, right? 

Unfortunately, Iwaizumi notices, because he takes hold of Oikawa’s shirt and says, “Go over there and say something to him right now, or I’m never sitting next to you on a bus again.”

“What are you talking about, Iwa-chan?” answers Oikawa, doing his best to feign ignorance. How does Iwaizumi know about the whole humiliating episode?

“Don’t play pretend with me. I saw you two holed up in that closet together last night.”

Oikawa turns a bright red.

Iwaizumi continues, “And it’s about time! If any idiots were ever meant to be together, it’s you two!”

“Nobody asked your opinion, Iwa-chan,” protests Oikawa, trying to hold on to his tattered dignity. Does _everyone_ know? “Anyway, it’s too late. His bus is here.”

Iwaizumi growls threateningly, the particular look in his eye that means a blow to the head will soon follow if Oikawa doesn’t do what he says.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”  


He walks over casually, eyes to the ground, pretending he has no destination. As soon as he catches sight of the back of Kageyama’s head, however, he grabs his jacket and pulls him unceremoniously around the corner of the building, where they are shielded from the others. He pushes Kageyama none too gently against the wall, placing his own hands on either side of Kageyama’s shoulders.

“Wha-“ Kageyama has time to say before Oikawa cuts him off with a kiss. It’s a soft kiss, nothing like the heavy making out they were doing the night before. But Kageyama throws himself into it without reservation, licking into Oikawa’s mouth, gripping him tightly with fingers that are, once again, trembling with the force of his feelings.

Shit. He _does_ like Oikawa – he really does.

Oikawa smiles. It feels so good to have Kageyama in front of him like this, to kiss him, to pull him in tightly, to be pressed up against his hard body. It also feels good to think about seeing him again, spending more time with him, getting to know him in this new, tantalizing way. Awkward, driven, ridiculous, scowly Tobio-chan.

He breaks off to whisper urgently into Kageyama’s ear, “Go out with me.”

It’s not a question, but Kageyama answers like it is.

“Y-y-yes, Oikawa-san,” he says breathlessly. “Yes! I will!”

“Next weekend.”

He grins at the feel of Kageyama’s fervent nod against the side of his head.

He pulls back to add, “I’ll come to your campus.”

Kageyama is smiling at him so brightly he’s practically glowing.

Oikawa doesn’t understand one bit of what’s going on. But… the truth is that he is just as excited as Kageyama. He can’t help smiling back. 

Then Kageyama looks down, biting his lip nervously.

_Shit._ Is he having second thoughts?

“Or not,” Oikawa adds diffidently. “If you don’t want me to.”

“No!” says Kageyama immediately. “I do! I do want you to! It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Just that…”

“That what?” Oikawa demands, nervous himself now. What is he trying to say?

Kageyama doesn’t answer.

“Tobio-chan,” he says warningly. “Spill it!”

“I switched places with the other guy.”

“ _What?”_

“Hinata helped me. We told the guy the room was off limits, and then Hinata poured beer all over him so he had to go and change.”

“You lured me into that room under false pretenses?

Kageyama flushes again. “You lured yourself in. I just… substituted myself for that asshole.”

“You knew it was me the whole time!” cries Oikawa, the pieces all fitting together. “That’s why the light was out!”

“Yeah,” Kageyama sags against the wall. “I’m – I’m sorry. It was a sleazy thing to do. I understand if you don’t want to go out with me.”

“It was indeed sleazy.” Although in reality he’s more impressed that Kageyama could execute such a plan on the spur of the moment than angry. He adds, curiously, “If you knew you were into me, why didn’t you just say something?”

Kageyama looks at him like he’s the stupidest moron to ever walk the earth. “I tried! You kept running away from me!”

So it wasn’t Oikawa’s imagination that Kageyama was always underfoot during the tournament.

“And even if I had managed to talk to you, do you think you would have talked to me back?”

“Probably not,” admits Oikawa. Then he smiles and bends down to kiss Kageyama, whispering, “I’m impressed with both your ingenuity and your nerve, Tobio-chan." Although he's not really surprised. Those are Kageyama's trademark qualities as a setter. It's an interesting thought, though, that they have been so recently employed to win Oikawa over. "See you next weekend?”

A huge smile breaks out on Kageyama’s face. “Yeah. See you then.” He continues, with obvious reluctance, “I’ve gotta – I’ve gotta go. Before the bus leaves.” 

He wiggles out from under Oikawa and trots rapidly away. 

Oikawa watches his retreating back disappear around the corner, then starts to walk, in a much more leisurely fashion, to his own bus. He is whistling under his breath, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

Maybe he did get lucky last night, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any typos, etc. i often can't see them until after it's posted, and have to correct them later. thanks for reading. cheers!


End file.
